The Hero Research Club
by JasminePudding
Summary: Ivan Braginski's family was murdered through a strange occurence save himself and his two sisters. Nobody wanted him, so he was sent to a boarding school far abrooad. Just what secrets lie in front of him, and what is this 'Hero Research Club?
1. Prologue, part 1

**[IMPORTANT!] Author's notes:** This is my first fanfic, so please bear with me with any spelling, grammar, punctuation mistakes and OOC-ness in the characters' side. This fic is created in cooperation with my friend** Ms-Octoberry**, so the plot is half hers to claim. Just to note that I **will** put OCs for plot-wise reasons, so those of you who can't stand OCs, just a forewarning, I'll be putting exactly twelve official OCs in this story, they'll be quite important to the plot, along with a few extras like Russia's parents that I think you won't care about. Also, sorry if the story's bad, I'm kind of rushing with this chapter. Lastly, if there's anything that doesn't make sense or defies the laws of physics; a thousand apologies for that, I'll try to do something about it…maybe.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Hetalia series, Himaruya Hidekaz does.

**PROLOGUE**

**PART 1**

"You look very handsome, my little Ivan," a woman smiled down to her son. The little boy giggled and wrapped his arms around his mother in a tight embrace. The woman smiled, hugging her son back as he played with the various multi-colored beads hanging in various patterns from the dark red shawl laced around her narrow shoulders. Her maroon dress fluttered down in waves ending with an intricate pattern of lace and embroidered flowers. Her platinum blonde hair was tied in a tight bun, adorned with jeweled, red, fabric flowers; her violet eyes shone under the bright light of the large bedroom.

"Do I really mama? Will I be able to impress papa?" He asked giddily, his small hands playing with the multi-colored beads. She smiled and patted his, similar to hers, platinum blonde hair. His bright violet eyes looked up to her in amusement. His mother bent down to his eye-level and smoothened out the creases on his beige brown coat, then moved to help him slip on his dark brown boots. She smiled as she made the finishing touches to his hair and clothes.

"Why of course, Ivan," she replied, patting his hair down, "Your papa always had high hopes of you, but he never forgets that you are only human, and a child for that matter, " he giggled as she tickled his nose, "Now be on your best behavior and make us proud this evening, alright?" Ivan nodded feverishly, clutching his mother's hands tightly.

"Da! I promise to be really, _really_ good mama! I'll make papa, mama, Katyusha, Natalia and the entire Braginski family proud! And then, they'll accept me, right mama?" He exclaimed excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. His mother nodded absentmindedly and put on her own dark red winter boots. Ivan puffed out his cheeks, slightly irritated that his mother was barely paying attention to him. She took another minute to fix up her hair and grabbing her purse. She stopped right in front of the door and smiled towards Ivan.

"Come along now Ivan," she said as she extended her right hand to him, "We don't want to keep your papa and your sisters waiting, now do we?"

"Coming mama!" He ran up to her, not caring if his boots were a size too big for him and very hard to even walk in, and latched his small hand to his mother's. He held on to his mother's warm and inviting hand. He loved his mother deeply, along with his father and two sisters. He loved them all deeply. Even if the rest of his family didn't accept him as one, he did not care. As long as his father, mother and two sisters accept him, he would never care.

"Oh dear, I almost forgot!" She cried out suddenly. She quickly took her hand out of Ivan's tight grasp, much to the displeasure of the little boy. She hurried across the room, her heels clicked against the marble floor. Ivan's eyes followed her figure, as she sauntered towards the tall burgundy wardrobe which stood tall and proud against the cream-colored walls. Her beaded shawl flowed slightly in the small rush of wind. She pulled the doors to the wardrobe open, revealing a row of fancy dresses and suits of various shapes, colors and sizes. She bent down to reach a medium-sized, fancily decorated box located underneath the row of clothing. She motioned for Ivan to come closer to her, and he followed her as she sat down on the beige king-sized bed.

The box she held was not big nor was it small, it was so-so, or, the more appropriate term, medium-sized. It was decorated, really fancily to an almost tacky arrangement, with a light blue wrapping paper with fluorescent snowflakes that shone under the lights. It was heavily decorated with miles of blue ribbon, in the shape of decorative bows, or to wrap around the box. One thing was for sure, it confused little Ivan as to what it was.

"This is a gift for you, Ivan," she explained as he climbed up next to her, "Katyusha worked day and night making this on time for today, Natalya helped with wrapping it, since she's still much too young to be holding something so dangerous. You must thank them later." She gave the box to Ivan, his small hands wrapped around the sides of the box. He tried to carefully unwrap the gift, since Natalia was the one who wrapped it, though with a multitude of wrapping paper, ribbons, glues and tapes sticking firmly to the box, let's just say it was quite the challenge for a small boy to do.

"Here, let me help you, my little Ivan." His mother cooed as she bent down and helps Ivan carefully tear away at the wrapping paper. Ivan smiled as he finally managed to pry away the tape and the glue from the ribbon and wrapping paper. His mother gently tugged at the rest of the wrapping paper and, finally, they were able to unwrap the present completely. Ivan's smile grew wider as his mother lifted the lid of the box, eager to see what his elder sister had made for him.

His eyes widened in surprise as his mother took out a bundle cloth, of beige wool, and wrapped it around Ivan's neck. His small hands reached up to his neck, where he touched the soft texture of the scarf and nuzzle into its warmth. The slight smell of mothballs and fresh woolen yarn filled his nose, as he happily brought the scarf closer to his face.

"Do you like it, Ivan?" His mother asked; slight amusement evident in her voice. She watched as her son nodded his head slowly, lost in the warmth the scarf gave him. His mother laughed coyly and patted her son gently on the head. Ivan however was too lost in the reverie to smile back or even acknowledge her presence. The scarf did more than just warm his neck, shoulders, ears and half of his face; it radiated the care and love his family gave him. He could feel the warmth of his elder sister's hands while she knitted, their mother's hands brushing against her hands while she helped, their father holding it up to admire the finished product, and the smell of his younger sister as she snatched the scarf away and hugged it close, which slightly terrified Ivan.

The sound of bells rung throughout the room, cutting him out of his reverie, and both mother and child snapped their heads to the old grandfather clock that loomed in a corner of the room. The clock struck eight, its intricately carved hands pointing to both twelve and eight on the clock's face. The old grandfather clock always managed to find ways to scare Ivan, this time; it scared him with a foreboding feeling of death. Though Ivan, being only a child, thought nothing further of it.

"Oh dear," His mother exclaimed as she stood up from the bed and smoothened her skirt, "We're late! Come now, Ivan, quickly!" She grabbed her purse from on top of the bed, not bothering to get Ivan who was looking at her with a dazed expression, and looked into her reflection in the vanity. After making sure there was nothing wrong with her hair, she rushed out of the room, her skirt flowing in the breeze behind her.

Ivan snapped out of his trance as soon as his mother walked out of the door and he quickly jumped off the bed. He wrapped his beige scarf once again around his neck and ran in his two-sizes-too-big-boots out of the room. Once, he got out of the room, he immediately missed the warm, bright light that his parents' room had to offer.

The Braginski manor corridors were, almost entirely not at all, scarcely lit. The long, winding passages either lit by only a row of dim light bulbs, or by the faint light of the moon outside of the manor. Ivan always felt insecure being in the corridors late at night, as, to his displeasure, at least ten trees were planted right outside the window, in the manor grounds, that formed a small forest. As if the looming trees and the nocturnal animals that tend to live on those trees weren't enough, those trees were a thousand times creepier during winter.

Ivan gulped; it certainly was not very reassuring to see the trees looming over him under the light of the moon, in the dark corridor. Its leaf-less twigs and branches rustled in the bitter winter wind. Bits of snow would fall to the ground from the tips of the twigs or from the patches of snow from the branches. And the sounds of the normal nocturnal animal life still scared him. Without a second thought, Ivan ignored the windows and ran straight to his mother.

Sometimes he wondered how the adults did it; walking in dark corridors at night with no means of light other than that from the moon and with the dark and dreary trees looming right outside as if it were nothing! Even Katyusha, his elder sister, could do it without a bat of an eyelid! He was thankful of that, though, her room was the closest to his and Natalya's rooms if there was a raging winter storm.

"Mama, wait for me! Slow down!" He yelled after his speeding mother, only to fall on deaf ears. His mother did not even slow down, instead, she quickened her already fast pace. Ivan panted as he tried to match his own running pace with his mother's, his beige scarf flapping wildly behind him. He didn't know how long or how far he had been running after his mother, the only thing that mattered was reaching his mother.

Finally, after getting too tired of running and the strain his boots had put him, he tripped on thin air and fell flat on his face.

"That hurt, da…" Ivan whimpered as he stood up from the ground and dusted himself. He looked up and around the winding hallways to see his mother had completely disappeared from his line of sight. He was alone, in one of the many dark corridors of the Braginski manor.

Ivan began to panic; he was never, _ever_ left alone in a dark corridor late at night. Not only was that not very reassuring for both him and his parents, but it was also theoretically, and proven to be, impossible to be found when exploring the Braginski manor late at night. Not only were most of the corridors were left unlit; they always end up in a series of complex turns, secret passages, confusing intersections, and winding stairs.

Ivan looked back and forth for anyone,_ anything_ that could get him out of there! He contemplated on going back to his parents' room, in hope that his mother would find him there, but he was too far ahead to determine where the room, or even he, was. The hallways that used to be filled with rushing servants were desolate and empty, so he couldn't rely on them to lead the way.

In his mind, Ivan's thoughts went haphazard. He felt his eyes water as he looked back and forth between the corridors, hoping for a person, a sign, anything at all that could save him and get him out of there. It wasn't very reassuring that he can barely see where the corridors led to, nor can he hear anything but the nocturnal wildlife right outside the mansion.

He unsurely took a step forward, but changed his mind and stepped back to his original position. He took a step back, to take back his action and remain stationary at his spot. He repeated the same actions over and over again, until he gave up and slid his back down the wall, his face facing the full view of the beautiful night sky. Ivan's eyes widened at the sight before him, never had he seen such a beauty!

Ivan marveled at the endless blue sky, the stars twinkling light millions of tiny crystal light bulbs lighting the way to heaven, the moon grinning down at him in such a friendly and enchanting manner, and how the dark forests would blend into the background, making way for the main actors.

Ivan's eyes twinkled as he felt all his fear and anxiety melt away to let the blissful feeling engulf him completely. He stood up and ran towards the window, wanting more and more of the sight before him. He soon forgot of the party, his mother, and everything else that worried him as he stared into the moon. His curious violet orbs shone with glee and curiosity.

"How beautiful, da~" Ivan breathed as he planted his face on the cold glass. He smiled contentedly, and began to feel himself dozing off. He looked up again at the moon, and smiled up at it. He felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier and his body slid down the glass. He gave a tiny yawn and felt himself go to a blissful, relaxing rest—

"Ivan! Where are you child?"

Without a second to spare, he pried his eyes open and looked around the hallways. No one was there, but he certainly heard his mother voice coming from one of the vast corridors! He promptly stood up and brushed any imaginary dust off his coat and scarf. He ran to where the voice was coming from, replying some times when his mother's voice began to fade away.

"Mama, I'm over here!" He yelled as he kept on running.

Soon, the sounds of his small steps echoing in the hallway were followed with the sounds of two or more pairs of footsteps running towards him. He gave a small smile as he saw bright flashes of light in the end of the hallway, he knew he was close, and he had no intention to be any farther away.

His mother came into view; worry staining her beautiful face, carrying a bright torch and running, or speed-walking, towards her son. Relief washed over her features as she saw Ivan coming closer into her own view and sped faster. Ivan couldn't be any happier to see his mother, either, and smiled brightly at her.

As soon as she reached him, she bent down, her torch forgotten, and squeezed Ivan in a tight hug, in which he returned happily. He smiled as he nuzzled into his mother's shawl, all his previous feelings of weariness, fear and anxiety gone and forgotten in his mother's embrace.

"Ivan! I was so worried," She exclaimed, squeezing Ivan tighter, "I'm so sorry, I should've slowed down for you to catch up. Are you okay, my dear?"

Ivan nodded excitedly, smiling one of his best smiles up to his mother. She smiled back and patted his head. She stood up from her previous position, not forgetting to pick up the torch, and smoothed her shawl and her skirt. She smiled gently at Ivan and offered a hand, which he gladly took.

"We have to get going now Ivan, your father and sisters are getting very restless for your arrival," she explained softly, before giving him an apologetic smile, "But, please hold on to my hand this time, okay?"

**First part of the prologue. Reviews are very much appreciated, thank you.**


	2. Prologue, part 2

**Author's notes:** Bah, it took several days of staying up late to finish this one. And I'm EXTREMELY sorry for the late update, it's my entire fault. I had exams and I had to study, but it was bad-timing on my part for posting this a few weeks before the exams; again, deeply sorry for the terribly late update. Hopefully it's as good as I intend it to be. Again, I apologize in advance for grammar, punctuation, or spelling mistakes and OOCness. Half the credit goes to **Ms-Octoberry**. Oh yeah, I should warn you that I'm going to be putting multiple pairings in this story. I don't care even if they clash with the other pairings, I'm putting them in. Feel free to suggest any pairings that comes up to your mind. Oh, and since I have no experience writing romance in general, if I were you, I wouldn't expect fluff on every chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia, it belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.

**PROLOGUE**

**PART 2**

Ivan followed his mother, his hand still tightly clutching hers, into the grand ballroom of the Braginski manor. Ivan rarely went in the grand ballroom, for reasons he himself couldn't understand why. It felt wrong to be in the large room. To Ivan, the room terribly reeked of power, greediness and hostility. It was a place where he would imagine dozens of aristocrats dancing on the polished marble floors, talking with each other with their smug smiles and carefree attitude, drink glasses upon glasses of wine or champagne and eat out of a silver plate, laughing down at the less-fortuned people, and how terribly his humble and kind parents stood out from the rest of their frivolous family.

Even though it was a celebration of his own tenth birthday that day, he was completely reluctant with having to celebrate it with the rest of the Braginski family. Don't get him wrong, Ivan loves just about everything and anything on this Earth; but he downright hates his family. He hated when his bratty cousins and their snobby parents came to visit, all of them did nothing but cause problems for Ivan and the rest of his family with their constant complaining of their housing and possessions. He hated when his family had to go and visit his spoilt cousins and their families only to have them brag about the things they have and Ivan's family don't. He especially hated when the elders of the family came to visit them. He remembered the last time his grandfather came to visit; all he did was complain about Ivan and scold his parents for not abandoning little Ivan the first chance they got. Aren't they all a one, big, dysfunctional family?

As soon as Ivan stepped into the ballroom, he was surprised at what he saw, and apparently all the guest were surprised of what they saw. Ivan looked at the crowded ballroom, examining each and every detail of all the familiar and unfamiliar faces in the crowd. Several faces that he could recognize, them being his annoying cousins, much to his chagrin, were looking at him with a look of pure disgust and mock. But he didn't care how they looked at him; he was too shocked at the large amount of people inside the room.

He knew no matter how much he hated his family, his family hate him ten thousand times more. The insults and scorn coming from the elders of the Braginski house for Ivan didn't go unnoticeable to the rest of the family. Instead of protecting Ivan from these scorns, since he was only just a child, they sneered gleefully and were often part of it. Of course they would be happy, there's one less potential rival for the heir of the Braginski fortune after all. Now this is where karma struck these people; Grandfather Winter, the head of the family, actually chose Ivan to be the heir of the fortune. The rest of the family were shocked and tried to convince Grandpa Winter to choose someone more 'suitable' and less 'disgraceful', but Grandfather Winter did not want to hear any of it. Ivan was going to be the heir, end of the story.

Not that Ivan knew about this ordeal, or his parents for that matter. Even if he did, he wouldn't care, he preferred being poor and loved than rich and hated.

"Oh, look what the cat dragged in and threw up on the floor."

Ivan flinched, he knew that voice, and he certainly didn't like who it belonged to. He scanned the crowd another time to see that his suspicions were correct. His worst nightmare, his sworn enemy, the rain on his parade, the Satan to his hell, his second cousin, twice removed, Alexei. How it made Ivan want to puke just by thinking up his name.

There, behind his pompous and arrogant mother, Alexei stood, face contorted to what seemed to Ivan as a failed expression of mock and superiority. His pompously styled blond hair perfect as ever, his blue eyes boring into his violet ones with a discriminating stare, his thin lips pulled up to a failed attempt of a smirk, his nose pointing up, showing off his nostrils. Whatever Alexei tried to look like, Ivan thought he looked like a blond pig.

"Hey, commoner, are you that listening to me?" He went off again, "Or, are you to illiterate to understand me? Shall I use caveman language then? Or, perhaps I should start screeching like a chimpanzee for you to understand?"

A seriously ugly blond pig with an attitude problem.

"Now now, Alexei," his mother chuckled under her breath, "You must not waste your time talking to these commoners. Come now, you're far more superior to that disgrace of a child."

Ivan felt his mother's hand tighten its clutch at his hands. Ivan knew if there was anyone madder than him, it was his mother. As much as his mother and father tried to hide the apparent 'violent tendencies' his mother like to have from time to time. Really, the whole town and their grandmothers knew about it, so why should she hide the fact that she beats up people with a shovel when they made her angry, with an overly creepy smile on her face while menacingly chanting 'kolkolkol'?

…On second thought, don't answer that question.

"My, if it isn't Kathy," His mother replied in a sickly sweet voice, topped with layers of venom to give it that extra jest, her face darkening as she does so, "How very…pleasing to see you here."

"And Annie," The woman replied with as much honey and venom, "It's been far too long since we last saw each other. When was the last time I saw you? A little over a month ago, I suppose, perhaps a little longer?"

"Unfortunately it hasn't been long enough. I had quite a peaceful time without hearing your horrible voice screeching my eardrums off."

Everyone in the room, including Ivan, gasped at the bold move she just made, of course, Ivan's mother being…Ivan's mother didn't care what they thought and proceeded to smile at the shocked woman. The woman's face contorted to that of disbelieve, surprise, anger and hatred. No one tried to stop them though; no one dared to get in the way of the two bickering sisters. Really, trying to get in between them is like trying to get in between a herd of stampeding rhinos and a herd of stampeding elephants. It was a stupid move to make.

The woman regained her composure, though her face was turning a vivid shade of crimson from the embarrassment she just faced, and managed to stutter out a reply: "H-How dare you…!"

"And that dress? Really," His mother chuckled darkly, "It makes you look older than you actually are. And I thought _I_ was supposed to be the older sister."

The woman was visibly shaken up; she, on instinct, looked down at her dress. It was a fancy dress, with golden silk ribbons, satin laces and a deep velvety maroon color. It was tight around the waist, but flared gracefully down to the floor in a mix of maroon and gold. The ruffles and embroidery on her neckline and sleeves were taken directly from the Victorian era designs. It took her weeks of fitting and finding the right fabric to get this dress right! It was way more expensive than the whole Braginski estate combined! How dare she call her old!

"What are you talking about?" She spat with much more venom, "This dress is exclusively tailored for me! You can't get this kind of dress ever, not even in your dreams! It's nothing compared to what you commoners wear! It's definitely way more expensive and cultured than those rags you call a dress!"

Ivan's mother smiled and nodded slowly, "True," she said, in barely a murmur, but her eyes twinkled brightly, "But I guess the fanciness of your…overly extravagant dress didn't help to cover your fat. And have you gained more wrinkles the last time I saw you? You're practically a dried up prune!"

Ivan's mother sighed in discontent and pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand, "And I thought I was the older one…"

"At least I don't look like some half-eaten sparrow the cat vomited on the porch!" Her sister rebuked harshly.

"Oh, but for a half-eaten sparrow, I was much more popular than you in our youth. Do you remember?"

"Lies!" She fumed, "You paid all those boys with your body to gain their untimely affection, you little wench! You're nothing but a shameless woman who befits her damned mother!"

Ivan could've swore he heard something snap inside his mother. His mother glared at her sister with her piercing eyes and creepy smile like there was no tomorrow, all the while loudly chanting 'kolkolkol'. Ivan could feel the atmosphere in the room becoming tenser and tenser. He knew family was important to his mother, and thus she never truly unleashed her age on either of them no matter how annoying they get! But she had her limits, and trash-talking the mother she respected was crossing that line.

"You are one to talk **sister**," Ivan's mother literally spat out, "Your marriage with your so-called 'lovely husband' is as fake as the fact that you were the most beautiful person in this room!"

Quiet murmurs of fear and worry started spreading around the room. They're no fool; they know that when something like that happens, it wasn't good. The only one who wasn't affected by his mother's dangerous killing aura was the said person's soon-to-be-victimized sister, who was glaring at her full force with a vein or two popping on her head. Ivan shivered slightly in fear; he can feel the tension weighing on his shoulders, and he just couldn't take anymore.

"M-mama?" Ivan stammered out looking up at his mother.

"Not now, sweetie," His mother replied, her smile still present and never taking her eyes from her sister, "Mommy's having a bit of fun teasing her little sister. Why don't you run along and find your papa and your sisters? Before her sad excuse of a pig she calls a son comes and bullies you again."

She yelled the last sentence so loudly that it echoed inside the silent ballroom. Everybody in the room stared at her, not with surprise, not with awe, not with anger; they just stared with their faces contorted into a funny expression. The kind of face that is commonly known as the 'Oh, she did _not_ just go there!' face. And, apparently, ladies and gentlemen, she _did_ just go there, and she's quite proud of it too.

"Scoundrel!" Her sister started yelling out in a burst of red fury, "Street rat! Hag! She-witch! You daughter of—"

"Enough."

Suddenly, the air in the room became cold and tense, even tenser than it was before. Ivan's aunt's face changed from that of a red tomato to a pale ghost. Ivan could see his mother's smile immediately changed into a deep scowl; his mother never scowls like that, she only scowls when she's afraid. A chilly breeze blew past Ivan, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

"Ivan, go find your papa and sisters," His mother whispered harshly, her eyes set firmly on her trembling sister, "Now."

His mother didn't need to tell him twice to get out of there. Quickly, he rushed towards the opposite direction the menacing aura was coming from. He didn't know where his father was, or anyone else he knew that wouldn't jeer him too much, but as long as he was safely far away from the deathly suffocating cold aura, he doesn't care. He knew that aura, that ever threatening presence that will continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, the only person, other than his mother, that he truly feared from the pit of his heart.

Grandfather Winter.

Once Ivan's small figure was safely out of her line of sight, Ivan's mother released her breath which she didn't even realize was holding back. As long as he was well away from Grandfather Winter, even if it meant **she** was to suffer, she was relieved and slightly assured. Gulping down the bitter taste of fear forming in her mouth, she slowly turned her head to her left and cracked a forced grin.

"My, if it isn't papa, how are you today?"

**Please review, sorry for the late update again and, hopefully, I can finish the absolute FINAL part of the prologue.**


End file.
